Pokhara is the city I have lived in almost all my life. I was born here, studied here and if everything goes fine; I am thinking of settling down here. It is truly a beautiful city. They call it the city of seven lakes but I’d say there are only three. The fourth largest one is more like a pond; I’ve not visited the others but it could be that I never noticed them. There’s a long list of places to visit; the lakes, the Seti riverside, Davis falls etc etc.

The city is not crammed with people as in Kathmandu and there are a lot of untouched places to visit and explore. The city is also covered with hills from all the sides which make the short trips even more joyful giving people a pleasure of watching down the city from the hilltops. The grasslands on the Seti River are also a place that I adore. There are a lot of flawless places away from the busy streets where one can go and enjoy his sandwich(HIMYM reference) alone and quiet. With all these beautiful things about this city, there’s one thing that dis-flavours this beautiful city, the monsoon.

Monsoon in Pokhara is weird and excessively annoying. There are the scattered thunderstorms throughout the city. Scattered rain, that’s what I hate; I could never plan my day. It rains for a week and the next day is clear and sunny. I check the weather on my phone. It shows a bright picture of the sun with a cloud trying to eclipse it with a caption, ‘Partly Cloudy.’ That’s an absolute win for me. With a subtle smile I think of going for a walk. I start jogging. The streets are all wet and beautiful. The first rays of sun are just falling down on the water droplets on the grass giving a beautiful shine. With that admiration fueling me even more, I start jumping a little, clapping my hands and going forward. The shine from the grasses begin to disappear. That warmth I was getting from the sun is lost and a cold chill is what’s left. The environment is entirely moist and small dew-like rain starts hitting me. Within no time, rain starts thundering down and I am completely soaked. With my enthusiasm completely drenched away, I return back and within minutes of return I again start feeling the warmth of the sun. “It was just raining down there!”, I exclaim inside my head. I come back dejected and the first thing I hear is, “What did you do? How?” from my mom. I give her a subtle smile and a simple movement of my face which is enough for her to understand that it was all because of the annoying rain.

The hailstorms are also annoying in Pokhara. Well, they’re annoying everywhere destroying crops and whatnot. I remember when I was in third standard, there was a huge hailstorm. Colossal balls of hail, bigger than my fist had fallen down. I’d heard that some people died from that and judging by what I’d seen I believed it. Even though the rainfall here is irritating and even maddening sometimes, the city shines with its enchanting beauty after the rain. All the fumes from the atmosphere are gone and the nearby hills shine with the sunbeam falling down on them. There is a weirdly satisfying smell of ground in the atmosphere and a sudden quietness. Fewa lake sparkles with the sun-rays falling down on its unrested waters. The views from the Seti river cliffs are also unusually beautiful. People start gathering on the Seti River bridges, banks and on the shores of the lake(referring to Fewa Lake). And in no time, it starts to rain again, everyone starts running with their heads facing down and hands over their heads.

It has been many times that I have been completely hammered by the rain and I come to a place gleaming with sunlight. Everything there is dry, warm and quiet but everytime that happens, I get an irritating look from a nearby person. The subtle smile, questioning eyes and a chin rise of about thirty degrees which is smoothly brought down in an instant; that’s the look. I could be misinterpreting someone’s simple smile but it seems to be speaking, “How stupid can one be to not carry an umbrella?”